


How to Train A Prince

by mellowfluffyangel



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), How to Train Your Dragon - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Coming of Age, Dragons, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-20 02:49:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14886219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellowfluffyangel/pseuds/mellowfluffyangel
Summary: Hiccup can be described in so many words: talking fish bone, sarcastic twerp, pathetic nerd, and the world's youngest uncertified Dragon Trainer. Not that the 'uncertified' part mattered since he's practically raised by dragons since birth. When secrets are uncovered and truths are revealed, Hiccup will be forced into his new role as the long lost Prince of Berk. ROYAL AU. HICCSTRID.





	1. Chapter 1

He first felt the imprint of a hand against his back before his mind registered the immediate danger he was in. It only took one hard push to send Hiccup sprawling towards the floor. His good foot twisted at the ankle sending sharp pinpricks of pain up and down the muscles of his right leg. Both of his palms bruised raw and bloodied from the impact against the rough concrete pavement – an unfortunate result of his inept attempt to break his fall.

The hallway was filled to the brim with students yet no one ventured to help him out. From the peripheral of his vision, Hiccup noted that some smirked in satisfaction. A cackle of derision could be heard somewhere from behind. Other onlookers simply turned away, pretending not to notice his need. Simply too afraid to alleviate his predicament and not wanting to be the next target of abuse.

He should be used to it by now.

Mocking taunts and jeers sometimes escalated into actual physical violence. It all depended on the type of bully he faced. All in all, cruelty served as a permanent fixture in his day to day school life. They took him for an easy target – the nerdy new guy with a peg leg and a crappy haircut who looked quite tall yet too thin and wore frayed clothing. Still, Hiccup schooled his features into an indifferent expression, not wanting to give his tormentors a reason to rejoice in his pain. Soon enough, the crowd dispersed and a single woman stepped forward to offer an outstretched hand.

"Are you okay, Mr. Cloud?"

Hiccup rolled his eyes at the irony of that question but took the offered help nonetheless. It was a teacher, perhaps his homeroom advisor. Not that he bothered to know her name. After all, he never stayed within one school for more than a year or two so she'll soon be a part of the faceless parade of people who barely had an impact in his life.

"The one who shoved you will be apprehended accordingly," the woman commented with a concerned frown as the disabled student struggled to brace his weight on an oddly shaped metal prosthetic. "Perhaps you should go to the infirmary first..."

"Perhaps I would if I could walk but you'll probably just watch me hobble off to my death," Hiccup drawled with a sneer then cocked his head to the side, "Care to escort me, oh great and mighty savior?"

His bawdy attempt at humor was met with a disapproving glare.

His teacher obviously lacked the proper acumen to appreciate his blazing wit. But then again, almost everyone he had met could not appreciate his sarcastic quips. Sometimes his sassiness even earned him a quick punch to the face. Lightly biting the tip of his tongue, Hiccup opted to behave and held on to the proffered hand for support. No further words were exchanged as he slowly limped his way towards the infirmary. A nurse hurriedly led him to sit on a chair and carefully prodded his foot before wrapping it in bandages.

"Sprained by the look of it," the nurse tittered. "It needs an ice compress and some rest. Perhaps he should be sent home?"

"Call his parents then," the teacher said. "I'll leave him to your care."

The door slammed shut, leaving them alone. The medical practitioner turned to the task of disinfecting his bruised palms. Hiccup hissed through gritted teeth, his wounds continued to painfully sting with each swipe of the antiseptic soaked cotton ball. Thinner bandages were swathed around his hands until it hid the injury from his sight. He was then instructed to lay down on one of the available hospice beds while the nurse retrieved his information sheet to find the mobile number of his one and only parent.

There he was, seventeen years old with one metal prosthetic and a sprained foot, waiting for his mother to pick him up and drive him back home. Forest green eyes stared hard at the ceiling while the desire to punch something, anything, churned within his gut. He hated his life. He hated his situation. He hated the fact that he couldn't even call any tangible place as home. The Dragon Sanctuary at The Bush served as pit stop, another government protected environmental area his mother was designated to work at. After a year or two the infamous Valka Cloud, Dragon Trainer extraordinaire, would be called upon to work in another country and in another Sanctuary. Uprooting their little family to another unfamiliar place became the norm.

It took two hours for his mother to arrive and by that time Hiccup had already counted every crack on the wall, also noting every pesky insect within the room. Valka's slim form was graceful with every step she took. The simple white shirt and khaki pants she wore accented her figure nicely. Her waist length auburn hair held back by a twine of leather at the nape. Muddied combat boots completed the rugged Dragon Trainer look.Valka's beatific smile immediately turned into a frown as she sat on the edge of her son's bed.

"Are you alright?" she whispered in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine mom," Hiccup sighed. "I can barely walk and my hands feel like the skin's been flayed off and I need a big dose of painkillers for my leg."

Gentle fingers gently touched the bandages neatly wrapped around Hiccup's foot. "What happened?"

This was the part he hated the most. No proper explanation could excuse the viciousness of his peers. All his life, Hiccup knew he was a target, one born with a gigantic bull's eye on his back.

"Well this school is more brutal than the rest," he shrugged nonchalantly. "The last one just made fun of my name. Which is understandable, by the way, since no sane parent would name their precious child as a 'Hiccup'."

He spat the name with such venom that Valka's eyes widened and she reacted in turn. "Would you stop that?"

"Why should I?" Hiccup said, bitterness seeping in his tone. "All my troubles had originated from a name that seemed to attract bullying bastards like a pack of flies to a pile of dung."

"Your name might be a bit different," his mother insisted kindly, "but it is an honorable, traditional family name given to you by your grandfather."

"A grandfather whom I have never met…" he snapped back. "Not to mention that I never met my dad either."

Mother and son exchanged antagonistic glares. The tension in the air was suddenly thick and suffocating to the point that the room felt too small and uncomfortable.

"Hiccup…"

"Don't…" he looked away, his fists clenching in resentment. "Don't tell me that it is okay. You don't know what I've been through. How they laugh at me, how treat me differently…"

Valka briefly closed her eyes, her anger melting away into regretful sorrow. She had too many regrets in her life, too many mistakes. That her son had to suffer the consequences of those bad decisions made and done…

It hurt a lot.

"Someday you will understand why you have been named as such," she smoothed the long auburn fringe covering his face, "someday you will know why our circumstances are what they are but for now…"

Valka rose to her feet and urged him with a hesitant smile.

"Come, child, it is time for you to come home."

-o-0-o-

Dragon Sanctuary was located an hour and a half away from the suburbia hell where his current school was located at. Asphalt paved streets soon gave way to gravel ridden dirt roads. The heat felt unforgiving out here in The Bush and the rented jeep's air conditioning was unable to keep up with the soaring high temperatures. In the far distance, Hiccup could see the mountains ranges that stood out in the horizon. Varied species of trees peppered the land and tufts of bright green dragon grass swayed in the breeze. Above in the bright blue sky, he could hear the distant roaring and crooning of the majestic beasts. He spied a fat yellow Gronkle lazily fly overhead with a purple Deadly Nadder fast in pursuit.

Home was a rectangular canvas tent the size of a small two-bedroom apartment. Hiccup grinned widely, spying his honorary Uncle lumber out of their shared living space. The feeling of emptiness in his heart replaced by sudden warmth. With a quick stomp on the brakes, his mother parked the jeep in front of their temporary home. Valka Cloud welcomed her co-worker and dearest friend with a wave of her hand.

"There you are! What happened to your lad?"

"Hey, Gobber!" Hiccup wiggled his bandaged hands, "Some arsehole pushed me in the hallway. I also sprained my ankle, bruised my palms, and got laughed at."

"Did you bash the vagrant's skull in?" Gobber raised his prosthetic hand and did a rude gesture. "It's not worth the pain if yah didn't hit them back."

"Don't teach my son your war mongering ways, you smelly old fart." Valka chastised in turn. She removed the key from the ignition, stepped out of the jeep, and snorted at her friend.

"Come on, lass, I'm a dentist and a harmless one at that," the older man chortled. "The most violent act that I have done would be wrestling a Monstrous Nightmares to remove some rotted teeth," he gave Hiccup a saucy wink, "Hardly violent if yah ask me."

They all shared a hearty good laugh. Gobber the Belch might be a fearsome sight to behold. Enormous with a six-foot three stature and braided blonde beard but he's as cuddly as teddy bear when it came to the people he cared about. They might not be related through flesh and blood, but they were family nonetheless.

Hiccup slid from his seat and barely touched his feet on steady ground when a distinctive screech suddenly whistled in the air. With a mighty roar, an incoming black blur flew as fast as a bullet through the sky. Valka and Gobber hardly had any time to scamper out of the way as a gamboling dragon the size of a pick-up truck attacked Hiccup with the power of tongue. The auburn-haired teenager helplessly backed himself against the posterior of the jeep and cackled in delight as the unholy offspring of lightning and death slobbered all over him.

"Come one, bud!" Hiccup groaned. "You know that doesn't wash out!" Sticky dragon saliva coated his whole face, hair and half of his sweatshirt. The substance had a distinct au natural odor of rotted fish and bad breath.

His mother merely smirked in amusement. "I think Toothless missed you quite a lot," Valka gestured to the dragon currently nuzzling its gigantic head against her son's chest. Toothless' prosthetic fitted tail wagged in delight, looking more like an overgrown puppy rather than a feral monster that could kill a human with a well-aimed plasma blast.

"Well, I'm sure there's a better way for him to show me any affection other than 'coat my rider with the stinky breath of death'" he snarked, flicking some drool back towards his dragon. Toothless scowled but butted his head into Hiccup's chest once more.

"How's the foot?" Gobber asked.

The young man puckered his brow as he patted the Night Fury's head. He shifted his injured foot then winced. The twisted muscles definitely felt sore underneath the bandages.

"Still hurting a lot," Hiccup said as he grabbed his mother's wooden staff from the back of the jeep. He leaned against it, using it as a temporary crutch to brace his injury. "There would be no dragon riding or training for me until it's properly healed but I've had worse injuries." He pointed a finger to the amputated left leg as a testament to that. Toothless crooned in disappointment, light yellow green eyes dilating when he realized his rider would be grounded for the time being. His gummy smile gave way to a silly draconic version of an adorable pout.

The sound of powerful flapping wings foretold the arrival of another dragon. Twice the size of a Night Fury and equipped with two sets of bat-like wings, Cloudjumper looked majestic as he descended gracefully to greet his rider. Valka scratched her beloved companion underneath the jaw and the reptile warbled contently like a purring cat. Eerie golden yellow eyes blinked double lids like a nocturnal owl.

If Cloudjumper was already here then the other dragons would soon return from their daily feeding trips. The reptilian beasts had to fly to the edge of the hundred-acre property in order to reach a flowing river where they could easily catch salmon and cod, only coming back to the stables before twilight fell. The Bush, like all other Dragon Sanctuaries in the world, served as a special reserve where dragons can lay their eggs and live in relative safety. Constant threats from poachers, hunters and trappers had decreased draconic population to the point that certain species were battling eventual extinction.

Toothless and Cloudjumper were probably the last of their kind.

"We should start to prepare our dinner," Valka lifted the flap of their tent. "Come inside, son." She shooed the Night Fury and Stormcutter dragons away, gesturing Hiccup to go in.

"I'll cook!" Gobber volunteered immediately. "No offense, lass, but yer cooking isn't fantastic. Yer meatballs could kill more beasts than a battle axe."

"Yet you survived," the brunette shrugged, "but by all means the kitchen is yours."

Their living space can be called utilitarian, their lifestyle obviously nomadic. Rarely have their family bought anything of value, opting to keep just an essential few that can be hauled on dragon back. Three plain futons lain on the dirt floor served as a bedroom. Several pieces of clean clothing hung on a line of string attached near the tent's ceiling. Hiccup settled himself on one of the available chairs and placed his crutch beside the collapsible table in their dining area while Valka placed crockery on its wooden surface. A portable generator cranked out electricity, providing well needed light through some LED bulbs and powering a television set - their one and only luxury that connected them to the civilized world.

Outside their living quarters would be a bath that consisted of a wooden tub and a pail - only used whenever it rained. Just a few steps away would be a makeshift forge where a Hotburple dragon called Grump snoozed the whole day away. With Hiccup and Gobber's blacksmithing expertise, they easily crafted dragon teeth and metal prosthetics for injured dragons. Saddles for riding would only be made whenever good quality leather was available for purchase. The forge also served as a haphazard kitchen with its deeply dug bonfire and iron spit.

Gobber could be heard singing off-tune as he basted, rubbed herbs and seasoned a raw slab of meat. The pork loin was then speared and hot dragon fire roasted it to sizzling perfection. Mouth-watering scents pervaded the tent the moment the blacksmith and part-time dentist came back inside. The family eagerly gathered around to partake of their meal and the television was turned on as part of routine. For a while, the clinking of cutlery was accompanied by the informative chatter of advertisements. Then a male news anchor suddenly flashed on screen to relay a special report.

_A tragedy has descended upon one of the small countries in the Barbaric Archipelago. The Kingdom of Berk mourns the loss of its leaders due to a car accident that occurred approximately at eight hundred hours. Initial police reports say that no foul play has occurred and that the driver had simply lost control of the vehicle. All passengers have died upon impact and there are no survivors…_

Hiccup narrowed his eyes, noticing Gobber's grave look of dread. Simultaneously, His mother's face suddenly drained of all color, looking as pale and haunting as a ghost. A  
recording of a smashed car with broken glass littering the blood-soaked asphalt was featured on-screen. Several police officers circled the horrifying scene. Each of their faces held grim expressions.

_A public funeral will be held to allow the Berkian citizens to mourn the much beloved rulers. Monarchs, Prime Ministers and Presidents from all over the world will be invited to attend the somber occasion…_

The next video showed a gathering of grief-stricken men and women leaving bouquets of flowers and lighting candles in front of a medieval looking castle. Some were crying, some offered prayers and condolences.

_With the loss of its monarchs, it is believed that the oldest son, Stoick 'the Vast' Haddock will be crowned King…_

A mountain of a man with an enormous ginger braided beard and determined eyes briefly graced the screen before the television suddenly blacked out.

"Hey, I was watching that!" Hiccup glowered when Gobber pulled the plug from the electrical socket.

"Best fer us to not watch such a morbid story, lad." the older man gestured towards the only woman in their family who still continued to stare at blankly at the now blank screen.

Hiccup frowned, observing his mother hug herself in discomfort.

Something was wrong.

"Mom, are you okay?"

He had never seen her act like this, so affected and disturbed. Quite peculiar since it was a news story about an obscure kingdom located at the opposite side of the world. Several minutes passed by before Valka composed herself. She took a deep breath and sipped from a tumbler of water before regarding Hiccup with a determined stare.

"Do you want to relocate to another school again?"

"What?" The abrupt change of topic baffled her young son. Several questions wanted to burst from the tip of Hiccup's tongue but he halted.

It was his mother's eyes that stopped him. Valka's looked at him earnestly, silently pleading him not to probe further. There was a sense of desperation in her wanting to move on to the new topic at hand and Hiccup was forced to swallow his pride, leaving the mystery untouched for now.

"No," he answered, brutally honest. "I do not want to relocate. I hate school, any school for that matter." Hiccup stabbed his medium-rare meat with a fork, "I'd rather drop out than enroll in another one."

"Perhaps a new environment would prove tah be a better choice?" Gobber wisely advised. "Yer teachers should have been taking care of yah and punishing those bullying bastards. In mah day, when someone gets pushed, we punch back." He raised a fist and jabbed in demonstration. "No dilly-dallying needed, giving a black eye is the best way to handle delicate matters."

"Teacher intervention rarely works and hitting them back in the face would just get me into more trouble," Hiccup shrugged. "Sure, the guy pushed me in the hall today probably got detention for a week but those kinds of arseholes always find a way to retaliate. I should know, since I've been bullied in every school I've been in," he deadpanned, "Why can't I just skip all this educational bullshit and just be a Dragon Trainer?"

Valka rubbed the bridge of her nose and felt an oncoming migraine rearing its ugly head. She sighed at her son's naivety.

"The world values education. Those who don't finish their studies are frowned upon by the population at large."

"So what?" Hiccup snorted. "I have ridden dragons since I was five and trained my first Terrible Terror since I was three. I don't need certification."

"But rules are rules," Valka drove the point in, "And those rules are there for a reason. Your uncle and I have to apply for a yearly license in order to legally stay and work within Sanctuaries. Without it, we lose the right to interact with dragons. The only reason why you can still live here with us is because you are still a minor fully dependent upon me."

"Unfortunately, yer mother's right, lad," Gobber said, earning Valka's grateful smile but gaining Hiccup's ire in return. "No Dragon Sanctuary will hire someone without proper paperwork. Best for yah to finish yer studies, get a scholarship and a degree in Dragon Biology in some fancy college, then come back here in the wild to work with the family."

And that exactly was the crux of the problem.

Hiccup cursed, unable to curb his mounting frustration. Dropping out of school meant that he had to say goodbye to Toothless...

And the only way he could avoid that would be to study diligently until he acquired a diploma.

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

He could already see the answer in their faces.

Shit.

Hiccup swallowed thickly and pushed his plate away, "I'm going out." He grabbed the wooden staff for support then he stood on his feet to limp his way towards the exit.

"Son…"

He stiffened, pausing for a moment to gaze back at his distraught mother.

"I'm not angry at you or Gobber, it's just…" he raised a bandaged hand to pull tightly at his auburn hair. "I just need some space, some time to think. I'll be back before midnight."

They watched the boy lift the flap of the tent and disappear outside. A loud excited croon could be heard as Toothless greeted his favorite human. Valka scowled indignantly when she heard the telltale movement of wings. Her son's laughter faded into the distance and she knew all too well that Hiccup deliberately disobeyed the nurse's orders and took off on another midnight flight.

"That boy is so hard headed," she scoffed. "He's going to lose his other foot if he's not careful."

"Hiccup's going tah be fine, Val." Gobber assured, patting her shoulder with his prosthetic hand. "The lad's made out of sterner stuff being descended from a distinguished bloodline of boar-headed stubborn Vikings, eh. And speaking of bloodlines," with a twitch of his beard he gestured towards the television. "What are yah going to do about that?"

Valka turned away and started clearing the dishes, a pensive frown shown on her face. "I don't know what you are talking about…" she denied, causing Gobber to snort loudly. The blonde dentist crossed his muscled arms, rolled his eyes and gave a distinct expression of 'are-you-bloody-kidding-me?'

"Don't insult yer own intelligence by pretending to be ignorant."

"Does it matter?" Valka pursed her lips. "It would be better if he doesn't know the truth…"

"Better for whom? Stoick or Hiccup? Because yer son needs to know that he has a father and his father has a right to know that he has a son. Yah can't keep this a secret forever, Val..." he warned gravely, making his friend flinch slightly. "Someday the truth will come out and it might come out in a way that affects everyone."

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Thick blackened clouds stretched across the Kingdom of Berk as rain pelted down from the heavens. The gloomy weather mirrored the somber mood occurring just beyond the palace walls. Stoick 'the Vast' Haddock sat still within his wingback chair. His eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the hazy world outside his window. Two days has passed by since the ill-fated accident that shocked everyone within the kingdom but even now the public outpoured their support. Colorful umbrellas sheltered those who mourned from the relentless downpour while journalists and newscasters mingled amongst the crowd, looking for a quick story to sell. A small mountain of floral bouquets blocked the massive iron gates and rainwater drenched pictures of the dead monarchs that lay littered on the ground.

He should have been grieving with them, his people.

Yet his eyes remained dry and his emotions churned like an oncoming storm.

For seventeen years, Stoick had willingly followed his father's orders, doing his best to meet all expectations with no questions asked. He acted as the perfect son considered first-in-line to the throne. Not knowing that behind his back his own kin betrayed him, lied to him and kept him in the dark about a secret so monumental that once put to light it turned his whole world upside down.

The fact that Stoick could barely stand the thought of attending his parents' elaborate state-funded funeral reflected the depths of his emotional turmoil.

Swiveling his upholstered leather seat, he turned away from the solemn scene and paid attention to the photograph lain atop his mahogany desk. Beefy fingers traced the face of the cherubic child held within the arms of his beloved. The boy, whom he approximated to be about two years old, inherited his forest green eyes and Valka's reddish-brown locks. The picture looked crisp, almost brand new; a telltale clue that it had been kept hidden from prying eyes and oily fingertips for almost two decades.

That Stoick even found the photo could be considered a miracle in itself.

For all evidence of the deceit had been sealed away, secreted within a concealed vault in the King's Study – a room that, by all rights, now belongs to him.

A knock was heard and the door slightly opened. A bearded man with a bald head shuffled in with one hand clutching a silver pocket watch. His dark blue eyes noting every tick.

"It's time, Your Majesty," Silent Sven, his most trusted advisor named after his peculiar talent of being near invisible unless summoned, informed, "I have also instructed Bucket and Mulch to execute what you have commanded."

For a moment both advisor and monarch shared a knowing glance.

"Inform me of any developments concerning the retrieval immediately. Make sure no one else has an inkling of the situation."

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Sven thumped one gloved hand above his heart and bowed low in respect, then swung the double doors wide open.

Stoick acknowledged his subject with a slight nod of his head then slid the precious photo into his breast pocket, keeping it close to his heart. Now was not the time to think of betrayals and of what the future may bring. The public needed to mourn with him, the king-to-be, acknowledging the loss of their leaders with all the pomp and extravagance that the kingdom’s coffers could provide.

He stood tall, hands briefly straightening the lapels of his suit and came out of the King's Study with a purposeful strode. Polished dress shoes stomped none too delicately upon the intricately weaved vermilion runner underneath his feet. Silken tapestries lined the hallway before him and each antique showcased embroidered battles won by royal ancestors leading Berk into victory. Gold-plated chandeliers glittered from the vaulted ceiling above his head; the use of candles replaced by modern bulbs for lighting. Oil portraits of the Kings of Old lined the stone walls in-between arched gothic windows, their intricately painted eyes hard with determination and their mouths hidden beneath distinctive beards.

At the end of the hall, a tall and handsome burly figure awaited him. Tension crackled in the air as each man sized up the other, acting too much like territorial dragons before the newcomer welcomed Stoick with an excessively mocking bow.

"Brother..."

"Spitelout..."

A lazy smirk appeared from the man now walking by his side.

"What horrid circumstances," Spitelout said. "Father and your mother ready to be buried six feet under. Aren't you excited?"

Stoick raised one bushy red eyebrow at that. "The whole kingdom is mourning. Excitement is not a word I would describe our dire circumstances."

"Perhaps," Spitelout smacked his lips, "but the passing of the crown is exciting in itself. Just say the word and I can step up to take the kingship away from you…" the words more of an underlying threat than jest, "but for now, I'll settle for you declaring Snotlout as your heir presumptive."

Slowing in his gait, Stoick meticulously studied his half-sibling. Raven haired and lacking the distinct Haddock reddish locks, Spitelout Jorgenson's features betrayed the illegitimacy of his heritage - a bastard son from one of the late king's concubines; one accepted as family but never recognized legally.

"Why should I?" the king-to-be challenged.

"You don't have an heir," Spitelout stated, "I, on the other hand, already have a son - a prince whose lineage can be traced back to the Kings of Ages Past."

"Snotlout is not fit to be King."

"Hogwash," the younger brother waved an impatient hand in dismissal. "He is a child, thus immature. Give him time to grow and he will become a King fit to be remembered through sagas and songs."

"I doubt that," Stoick grumbled. "I've seen my nephew act more like a fool than a prince groomed to take over a whole kingdom." He shook his head, knowing too well of flaws concerning the boy's personality. "Your son is too arrogant and self-absorbed to be diplomatic. Too brash to think wisely. Pushing the child into the role of Crown Prince would spell disaster for Berk."

His companion merely rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"You don't have a choice," Spitelout reminded him. "You need to declare an heir in six months right after the appropriate mourning period is over in order to be crowned King. You don't have a wife or child. Without an heir, the problem of your succession will become a troublesome dilemma. Plunging our kingdom into uncertainty is not advisable in these trying times." The raven-haired man's smirk turned menacingly shark-like when he regarded his older brother's unusual silence.

Stoick pursed his lips into a thin line and kept his expression neutral. The paper-thin photo hidden within his breast pocket suddenly felt like a dead weight in its crucial importance.

No, he didn't need Snotlout.

Not anymore.

_Not when he already has an heir, a son. A true prince with Haddock blood running through his veins..._

A son whom Stoick vowed to locate even if it meant he had to search the whole world.

-o-0-o-

Hiccup's shoulders stiffened the moment a figure overshadowed his seat. His sketchpad was snatched from his desk then dangled in front of the class for all to see.

"Drawing dragons once again, Mr. Cloud?" His math teacher, the wrinkled old fogey, twitched his nose in distaste at the rough sketches of Toothless' gummy smile. "It seems your obsession with these reptilian creatures is quite unnatural."

"Maybe he wants to fuck one!" someone yelled out from the back of the room. The schoolteacher merely reprimanded the arsehole for using foul language while the rest of his classmates sniggered as if on cue.

Squaring his jaw, Hiccup swallowed the sarcastic retort that desperately wanted to rage from his throat, knowing all too well that retaliation only made matters worse. Three weeks had passed since the unfortunate 'accident' in the hallway and the verbal taunting had not abated at all. The sprain in his ankle had thankfully healed since then, no longer needing bandages for his foot nor did he need to rely on a crutch to get around. He stuck to the sidelines and kept his head low -- just in case -- to steer clear from any further physical altercations.

Hiccup really did not want to attract any unwanted attention.

Well, tough luck with that.

"If you want to get this back, then perhaps you should solve the Equation for the Week," his teacher announced. "You know the drill. If you answer correctly, then you are exempted from the midterm exams. Answer incorrectly, and everyone else gets additional course work."

The class groaned in unison, immediately expecting the worst outcome. Putting students in such a conundrum was a favorite proclivity of this particular arsehole educator. He only gave one chance, only one, to solve the infuriatingly difficult college-level calculus equation yet none had succeeded so far.

Hiccup felt every judging stare as he slowly walked towards the front of the room. Bright green eyes flashed briefly as he scrutinized the complicated mathematical equation, its chalk white numbers a stark contrast to the dark surface of the board. For a few seconds, Hiccup stood still, mind whirring like clockwork. Then his nimble fingers grasped a thin piece of chalk and he began to write as if his life depended on it. On and on he wrote, his left hand seemingly having a life of its own and the class watched in astonishment as his answer encompassed the whole board.

"Can I go now?" his question seemed to break the sudden hush in the room.

The math teacher's eyes widened, his jaw dropping in utter amazement. A bell rang loudly from somewhere and it jolted everyone out of their trance like state. Without further ado, Hiccup reclaimed his rightful property then grabbed the bag hidden underneath his seat, not wanting to waste a minute more as he hastily exited out of the door. The hallway outside buzzed with activity as most students readied themselves to go home. He kept his auburn head bent down, allowing his fringe to cover his features and walked on.

_'Just one year,'_ he repeated in his head,  _'just one damn year and I'll be out of here...'_

Hiccup thought of Toothless, of Sharpshot and all the other dragons that he had trained all over the years. He thought of Gobber, his mother and all the wondrous responsibilities of what being a Dragon Trainer entailed. All that he wanted to achieve rested on the importance of a diploma, high grades and a scholarship that he needed badly.

The hardships he endured paled in comparison to the importance of his goal.

A thick mob of bystanders gathered in front of the school yard, blocking the only way out into the streets. Hiccup grumbled, pissed off at the commotion, wanting nothing more than to go straight back home and fly on Toothless' back. Even with his height he could barely spy the reason for the uproar and had to stretch his neck to do so. Then he saw it. A sleek black limousine parked right in front of the building with two oddly dressed bearded men standing by the vehicle's open door. Their stocky bodies wore finely sewn dark green military jacket. Strange looking helmets sat upon their heads and their gloved hands gripped an enlarged picture of a mother and child.

"Do yah think he'll be here, Mulch?" the one wearing a metal bucket on his head, of all things, wondered.

"I dunno, Bucket," the one wearing the horn like helmet shrugged. "Silent Sven said the last bank transfer was a payment for an enrollment to this school. Our target got tah be around here somewhere."

Hiccup pushed his way towards the front of the murmuring crowd, his inquisitive eyes narrowing conspicuously at the colored photograph held high by the two strangers.

"That looks eerily familiar..." he whispered to himself. It was as if he had seen it somewhere, someplace before. Then realization hit him like a well flung bola. Instantly, he knew who that woman was. He knew that face shape, that smile, and those soulful eyes...

He couldn't help himself when he yelled.

"That's my mother!"

Every head in the vicinity swung towards his position. Hiccup cringed, inwardly hating himself for accidentally attracting the attention that he desperately wanted to deflect. The man with the bucket for a hat cocked his head to the side and studied him intently.

"Eh? Yah know Valka Cloud?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," Hiccup glared. He ripped the photo from their hands, wanting nothing more than to trash source of his public humiliation. "Why the hell are you flashing a picture of my mother at my school?" he spat, curling his hands into fists, ambling for a fight. Then he realized the identity of the smiling babe and recoiled in horror. "Is this a practical joke?!"

They blinked. Both men landed a stern hand on his shoulder, fingers gripping tightly as they leaned forward to scrutinize him from the top of his messy reddish-brown head to the Gronkle iron of his home-made peg leg.

"Is yer name Hiccup then?"

The young man furrowed his brows, "How do you know my name?"

Both men grinned triumphantly.

"I didn't think it would be this easy!" Bucket said.

"Oh boy," Mulch nodded with a grin, "Thank Thor for good luck!"

Hiccup could only yelp loudly as the pair of hooligans shoved him right through the limo's open door.

-o-0-o-

The sun shone brightly over the wild bush lands as white puffs of clouds lazily crawled across the skyline. Here, a hundred feet up in the air, everything looked miniscule and oddly beautiful. Valka could only smile in exhilaration as the dizzying height made the rampaging river below appear nothing more than a thick crooked blue line slashed across the rough landscape. The cold breeze played with her hair, giving her relief from the intense afternoon heat.

It felt freeing. There were no boundaries here, no pressures. The wide-open sky gave the illusion of space eternal.

Bending her knees, Valka adjusted her balance and rode atop Cloudjumper with the ease of a seasoned Dragon Rider. Unlike her son and old friend, she did not believe in equipping dragons with constrictive leather saddles - only trusting her beloved Stormcutter to never let her fall.

"Let's go back to the stables, dear friend." She patted the dragon's head before lifting an arm to wave her staff, causing the small pebbles inserted within its curved bone ends to rattle loudly. Her beloved reptile trilled in delight as they quickly turned around and rose faster, higher. A myriad of draconic species followed suit from behind.

It would not take them long to reach their living quarters. The travel by air relatively shorter than if she traveled on land. The illusion of freedom would then fade away. That little tent symbolized responsibilities and schedules, tedious things to tend to and a troublesome son to pick up from school.

Valka scowled, the thought of her errant child souring her once jovial mood. Conversing with Hiccup felt like pulling teeth these days – tiresome, painful and absolutely frustrating. Gone was the small adorable boy who snuggled against his mother's side for comfort. The adolescent version preferred to lash out, not knowing what else to do with all that bottled up rage. Deep within, Valka acknowledged the gravity of the boy's situation yet she felt powerless, unable to stop the abuse.

Cloudjumper steadily flew lower and lower as they neared their destination. Instinctively, Valka dropped into a crouch, one hand spread flat against the dragon's flank for support. The canvas tent was still half a mile away but trepidation suddenly struck like lightning through her veins. For there, situated right in front of her home, was a vehicle she had never seen before. All sleek and as black as night and polished until it gleamed under the sunlight. It stood out as an oddity in a terrain brimming with wildlife. Valka did not have an inkling of who owned the limousine, but she knew one thing...

It meant trouble.

"Valka! There yah are!"

She heard Gobber yell her name as she landed safely on rocky ground. Valka slipped off Cloudjumper and rubbed her dragon's jaw before facing her dear friend with a determined scowl.

"Gobber, what's happening? Is everything alright?"

"Eh," the blonde man winced and wiped the sweat off his brow, "I thought yah would be home soon. We have a wee problem at hand."

Her green eyes widened in surprise. That did not bode well. She spared a glance at the tent and thought of the worse scenario that could unfold.

"Is the government cutting off our funding?"

As Dragon Trainers, they lived off grants and governmental support. Losing either of those would be crippling and devastatingly so.

"Oh boy, this is a bit more complicated than that, lass..." Gobber rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. "I really hate to be the harbinger of bad news but I guess yah should come inside and find out fer yerself..."

For a moment, she hesitated. Her slim fingers gripped her staff as if it was a lifeline. Valka’s instincts warned her to run away, to jump on her dragon's back, and to flee into the far distance. What she was afraid of? She knew not. Yet the irrational feeling persisted, even as she squared her shoulders and decided to face her fears. She lifted the tent's flap and prepared herself to defend the reserve's funding.

Then her breath caught in her throat. Her whole world crashed around her.

For there, treating one of their chairs as if it was a throne was Stoick the Vast.

 

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

Her breath lodged in her throat as her heart pounded faster. Fear gripped her whole as the recurring theme of her nightmares came alive before her eyes. Over the years Valka wondered if her mistakes would one day cause her own downfall, knowing all too well that her sins counted too numerous to be forgiven. Yet she kept hoping, wishing that her faults would be forgotten and eventually chipped away by the passage of time. The man whom she used to love became a phantom that plagued her mind but he was here in the flesh, no longer just a figment of her imagination.

Stoick rose to his feet and took an eager step towards her.

"Valka..."

He whispered her name like an answered prayer. The timbre of his voice sounded so soft and familiar. The tension in the air suddenly rose to a fever pitch and the urge to run away became too tempting to take. Yet Valka’s whole body froze and she found herself unable to move. The numbing shock of seeing a ghost from her past effectively kept her in place.

"Stoick…" she gasped his name. "Could it be? How is this possible?"

She stared at his face in wonder, studying the palpable differences that two decades had wrought. The bright red flame of his hair now interspersed with strands of white; the once smooth and sharp line of his jaw now concealed beneath a bushy braided beard that almost reached his waistline. Stoick Haddock stood taller, his body definitely stouter. Yet his eyes remained the same. So green and so endearing just like her son's.

Just like her Hiccup.

Her whole body trembled. One hand clutched her staff tightly against her chest as her mind supplied the only plausible reason as to why the father of her child had suddenly appeared back into her life.

"You know about Hiccup?" she questioned.

Stoick's mouth lifted into a joyful smile as she mentioned the name of his babe, his mirth adding a certain twinkle to his eyes. He nodded once, twice and reached out to touch the slender curve of her shoulder just to make sure that she was real and alive but his beloved flinched and looked away.

"I... I know what you are going to say," Valka started defensively. "How could I have done this. Stayed away all these years and kept your boy away from you…" Her voice shook as he took another step closer, "and I never once thought to let you know of our son..."

Guilt ate right through Valka’s defenses. Her stomach roiled in constant tension. Inwardly, she mourned the relationship she once had with this man. Stoick used to be her pillar of strength; the steadfast support she could lean on in the midst of the chaos that she considered as her life. Even so, she left him without care and threw everything away like dust blown away by a sudden gust of wind. Valka hunched her shoulders and tried to steer clear from his scalding touch but the rough canvas of the tent bumped against her back, effectively trapping her in place.

She had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

"I know I left you and raised Hiccup alone," she continued on, "but I thought that you would be better off without us."

She closed her eyes as she finished her confession. Waiting for him to strike back, to react harshly, to scream and hate her as she rightly deserved. But the red headed man kept resolutely silent and unnaturally calm. Valka finally snapped.

"Oh, stop being stoic, Stoick! Say something!" she screamed.

A lone tear trickled down her cheek when two warm, gentle hands cupped the sides of her face. Her eyelids fluttered open as she felt Stoick's thumb tenderly caress her skin. Forest green eyes gazed into her own with such passion and his love shone brightly like the sun.

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost yah."

His words speared through her and gutted her with regret and grief. For a few moments they gazed into one another's eyes - his filled with warmth while hers still questioned his quiet acceptance with palpable apprehension. Stoick leaned forward, molding his mouth against her lips with a burning passion that wanted to devour her whole. One by one the protective walls she had constructed around her heart collapsed into rubble. Her fingers loosened their grip around her staff and it fell, clattering against the ground.

"I'm here now," Stoick murmured to her ear as she sobbed against his chest, dampening his shirt with her tears. He left soft kiss upon her temple then he looked up and vowed to the heavens, "and I will never, ever, let you disappear again."

-o-0-o-

Hiccup winced, fingers gingerly rubbing at the side of his head in an attempt to chase away his sudden migraine. His head spun at the unpredictable turn of events, remembering all too well how he got shoved into the now moving vehicle without his consent.

"I just got kidnapped," he pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned loudly. "Oh great. I'm in trouble again."

Pushing himself off the floor, he clambered to the top of the backseat and quickly re-adjusted his loosened prosthetic. He checked the doors and found them tightly locked, finding no other way to escape unless his abductors decided to park and let him go. He could try to jump out of the window but that would be suicidal if he factored in the car's speed.

Hiccup looked around, deciding to note every critical detail. Perhaps he could find a telephone to call his mother or to alert the local police. Then he frowned, not liking what he saw.

Someone with a lot of cash to spare obviously owned this limousine. Every inch of its elegantly embellished interior screamed of privilege and snobbery. He found the overt display of extravagance quite grating, especially since his family often skirted the edge of poverty. A nervous chill rain up his spine and the situation suddenly seemed more dangerous and volatile. After all, the last time his mother pissed off someone obscenely wealthy that person turned out to be a notorious crime boss who wanted to own a dragon illegally.

A divider separated him from the driver's side and an intricate gold crest with the word 'Haddock' was embossed on its surface. Hiccup raised a hand and knocked rapidly until a whirring sound filled the car. The partition slowly rolled down and revealed the two men who kidnapped his skinny arse.

"Hello, strange hostile strangers whom I have never met," Hiccup cocked his head to the side and gave a winning smile. "Can you please stop the car and let me out so I can go on my way home? Just let me get off somewhere, preferably a place that has a working payphone so I can call my mother and she can pick me up from there."

"No can do, yer Royal Highness," the blonde man with the bucket for a hat turned around and gave him a quick salute.

Hiccup blinked, "Is 'yer Royal Highness' a code word for an idiot because I'm pretty sure I'm not a royal asshole and my blood is red not blue." He wrinkled his nose and snorted at the impossible insinuation. "I think you got it all wrong. I know that was my mother's picture but you've probably mistaken me and her for someone else."

"Isn't yer name Hiccup?" the one driving asked.

"Yeah, that's my name," he agreed lightly. "But everyone around here knows that I'm a pathetic twerp. Skinny not-so-little me as an aristocratic what's it?" He tried to laugh his nervousness off. "Really, that's ridiculous. You obviously nabbed the wrong guy..."

Hiccup turned up the charm and grinned to show off his pearly whites, silently persuading his hostage takers to believe that they made a mistake. Honestly, they seemed friendly enough, although they would be a bit touched in the head if they believed all that royal crap they've been spewing. If he can't escape on his own then perhaps it's time for him to change tactics and negotiate his way out.

"Well, since we are going to spend some quality time together, can I have your names?" he asked innocently enough. Noting details about the enemy would always be a strategic move that could help him tremendously by the time he’ll be able to get the chance to contact the police – if he’ll be able to escape this snit alive and kicking in the first place.

"Eh, I'm Bucket," the blonde man said then pointed at the other man beside him, "and he's Mulch." The driver with dark hair and a pointy helmet waved a gloved hand.

Hiccup raised his brow. Weird names… Well, he can get on with that. Though he hoped those code names did not translate to something more sinister.

"Look, Bucket and Mulch," Hiccup started in a calm manner. "I don't want any trouble. But please, I just want to warn you about my mother…" His expression turned serious and he tried to intimidate them with menacing scowl. "She is terrifying and owns a dragon bigger than this car and she'll panic like a hungry Skrill when she finds out that I'm not where I'm supposed to be."

The auburn-haired boy frowned when his kidnappers merely shrugged, unconcerned. There goes his tactic to intimidate the enemy.

"Are yah always this talkative, Sir?" the one steering the wheel suddenly piped up. He turned to his companion and said, "I've always thought that all Haddocks were enormous silent-but-deadly types but this one can yak on and on and on like a seasoned barmaid."

"He's too thin though," Bucket frowned at the boy's reedy arms. "Definitely needs more mutton on those bones if he wants to get as big as his father."

Hiccup's eyes widened, absolutely stunned and not expecting  _that_  at all.

His father, a person whom he deemed to be more of a sperm donor than an involved parent, became a sensitive topic that he avoided at all cost. It was bad enough that the kids at school didn't accept him. To add that he had a parent who had rejected him since birth, who had never bothered to know him, felt like a sharp knife stabbed deliberately into his heart. 

"You know my dad?" his mouth suddenly felt dry. He still felt that pang of longing to know a father he had never known.  

"Yep," Mulch nodded in confirmation, "and we're tasked to bring yah to him, most preferably alive."

Hiccup took in a deep breath and wondered what kind of stinking shit he got himself into this time.

-o-0-o-

"Is everyone alive in here?"

Gobber's bald head popped through the tent's flap. Worry etched into his features when he noted the sudden hush that disrupted the heated conversation inside his home. He anticipated some loud yelling and a bit of ugly crying but what he saw amused him instead.

"Aren't yah two a bit too cozy, eh?" he chuckled loudly.

The reunited couple stiffened then quickly separated, opting to act coy as if they weren't passionately engaging in some passionate tongue jostling just a few moments before. Valka blushed as scarlet as a rose when her redheaded lover scowled at the intruder who ruined their perfect moment. Both pig-headed males sized up one another before Stoick grinned widely and greeted the blacksmith with open arms.

"Ah ha! Gobber, good to see you alive and kicking!" the royal bellowed. "I did not know you were here, but this just makes this reunion all the sweeter."

They exchanged a tight bone crunching hug. Both men grinned widely, bumping their foreheads together in some odd male ritual.

"I'm glad to see yah again, Stoick. Or should I start calling yah as Yer Majesty?"

"Using my name will be fine for now. I'm not king yet, not until the coronation..." Stoick stepped away from his friend then frowned, suddenly remembering the reason why he had to fly a thousand miles to get to this barren landscape. "Not until I properly acknowledge my heir."

Gobber and Valka exchanged an anxious glance as they gathered around the table. The blacksmith pulled out three ceramic mugs from a wooden chest and filled them to the brim with bittersweet honey mead; a homemade concoction he had aged for two years in one of the forge's wooden barrels. Burrowing a hand into his breast pocket, Stoick pulled out a small photograph and slid it over the tabletop.

"I found this inside my father's vault a day after the car accident among several other documents that proved the existence of my son," He flipped the photo and there, written in an elegant script at the back, was the name Hiccup. "I knew he was my babe the first time I saw him. He looks like a bit of you and a bit of me, Val."

Valka lifted the picture and stared at her baby's features. She swallowed thickly, recognizing the handwriting all too well and remembered the exact date she had sent the picture through the mail.

"He has your eyes and your laugh," Valka nodded her acquiescence. "I know I should have told you about Hiccup but I..." She hesitated, still afraid to earn his ire. He had every right to hate her yet he looked at her as if she still owned his heart.

"Hush. I'm not here to battle with you," Stoick said kindly to his beloved. "I do not know the reason why you disappeared seventeen years ago but there are more pressing matters to discuss," his gaze hardened with determination. "In six months time I will be crowned King of Berk and I need to declare an heir who will take my place as the Crown Prince."

Gobber's jaw dropped. "You mean tah recognize Hiccup?" he asked, "but surely yah already have a legal heir of yer own by this time?"

"I never married," Stoick admitted as he took a sip of his mead. "I may have had a relationship or two after you had gone missing, but only one woman had truly earned my affections."

Valka bent her head as Stoick's eyes flickered towards her position, unsuccessfully trying to catch her gaze. Her guilt swallowed her whole and she dreaded to see the fond expression on his face. She didn't deserve his love or his forgiveness. Her fingers fumbled with the photo as the urge to run away tempted her once again.

"I have to go, I need still need to pick Hiccup from school and..."

"There is no need for that," Stoick assured her. He held his left arm up, glancing at the expensive watch wrapped around his wrist, "He'll be here in a bit."

The honking of a horn made Valka flinch in her seat. The photo slid from her fingertips and her unease heightened into panic. The crunching of gravel against rubber tires heralded the arrival of another vehicle. Gobber finished his mead with a few quick gulps then raised his brow.

"That was fast."

"I don't have much time to spare, old friend," Stoick said bitterly. "I need to speak to my son as soon as possible."

A distinct nasal voice complained loudly, threatening to sic a ferocious Night Fury upon his abductor's arses. The tent's flap lifted up and two uniformed men dragged a reluctant, struggling teenager inside. With a quick, silent salute to their leader, they released their hostage and marched back to the car outside. The scowl on Hiccup's face disappeared when he saw his family sitting beside a man whom he had never met before.

"Mom, what's going on?"

Valka stood up and rushed towards her child. Her thin arms embracing him tightly against herself. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the torrent of her tears as she burrowed her head against his shoulder. Hiccup glared at their visitor whom he mistook as the cause of his mother's troubles.

"Who are you?" the young man demanded. "I don't know why you are here but you leave my mom alone!"

Hiccup growled and maneuvered his mother behind his back, a bold move to protect her from what he perceived to be an imminent threat.

The smile on Stoick's face fell.

"He doesn't know?" he spoke, bewildered. "He doesn't know who I am?"

Valka cowered behind her son, unwilling to face the consequences of her mistakes. She whimpered when she saw Stoick purse his lips into a thin unforgiving line.

"I'm sorry," she pleaded. "Please, I..."

The king-to-be interrupted her with a curt wave of his hand. He rose to his feet and stated his title.

"I am Stoick 'the Vast' Haddock of the Kingdom of Berk," he said proudly. "Heir assumptive to the Throne of House Haddock. And you, Hiccup, are my one and only son, a product of my loins and a Prince by your own birthright."

Forest green eyes widened in disbelief. "Hold on, wait just a minute!" Hiccup frantically waved his hands around, "You can't just say something like that and... You're my father? And you're supposedly a King? Do you grasp how insane that sounds?"

The young man waited for his supposed parent to announce that everything he said was just an elaborate prank but Stoick stood his ground and faced him head on.

"You are my heir. What I am saying is truth and nothing but the truth."

"All my life I've believed that I'm nothing more than a nerd with an unfortunate namesake and you suddenly pop up here out of nowhere and have the gall to tell me that I'm a prince all along?" Hiccup laughed bitterly. "No, Your Majesty," he spat the title viciously, "I'm just a Hiccup."

Tempers flared. Father and son glowered at one another, too obstinate and unwilling to concede defeat. Hiccup clenched his fists as Stoick hardened his jaw. Pig-headed stubbornness compelled them to clash.

"Now you listen to me, boy," Stoick towered over his skinny son. "You are a prince and my heir. I expect you to show reverence to me."

"This is dragon shit," his boy hissed back.

"Hiccup, please..." Valka implored and pulled at her son's clothing. Both men frowned when they noticed her noticeable distress.

"You can't make me believe this," Hiccup turned to her. "Tell me he's lying, mom!"

He pleaded for his mother to deny everything, to dismiss the lie, but Valka squeezed her eyes shut and confessed instead.

"I'm so sorry, son" she spoke softly. "He's telling the truth. He's your father."

Hiccup stumbled backwards, hurt by the sting of betrayal. He recoiled from his parents, ambling to immediately leave the tent when Gobber raised his amputated arm to block his only way out.

"Yah can't always run away, lad," his uncle said sadly. "Yer father's been telling yah the truth even with the royalty bit. Believe me when I say that I always wanted to tell yah all about that but I'm duty bound not to do so because of..." he shrugged, "reasons."

Gobber's hand fell upon Hiccup's shoulder and his uncle steered him towards one of the available seats. The young man sat down, quite shell shocked, as his supposed father took the chair across him, expecting to persist with their conversation. Valka stood behind them, her heart pounding with every shaky breath.

Hiccup's eyes had gone wild as he glared at the man before him, averse to face the adults who had dumped the insane idea upon his head. He remained skeptical. The implication that a sarcastic twerp like him was in fact a prince of a far-away realm sounded too implausible. Yet something about his father looked awfully familiar. The mystery niggled at him, poking at his doubts.

Red hair had always been rare color and this man would have stood out wherever he went. The braided beard definitely added some character to his presence. Hiccup kept snapping his fingers as his brilliant mind skimmed through his memories, trying to pinpoint where he had seen his father's face before.

Then he blinked. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

"Three weeks ago, the newscast about some monarchs meeting an accident..." He pointed an accusing finger at Gobber, "Is that why you pulled the plug?"

"Yep," the blacksmith grinned. "Glad you remember that, lad. I knew it bothered yer mother to see yer father even if it was just through the telly."

Hiccup breathed through his nose. The whole situation was all kinds of fucked up, but he wanted to know the truth.

"I want to be alone with my father," Hiccup looked between his mother and Gobber. "Please, I need to ask him some questions and I just..."

"No need to explain, lad." Gobber stood and rested a hand on Valka's back. "Yer mother and I will wait fer yah outside."

-o-0-o-

Hiccup could count in one hand the few select times when change had totally fucked up his life. The loss of his lower limb was one of his truly memorable nightmares but this travesty topped even that. He looked at his supposed father and wondered at how someone so massive and intimidating could be the source of one half his DNA strand. Stoick the Vast had twice the body size and twice the attitude. He stood taller and probably could smash a man's skull with one hard punch.

Stoick looked at him in concern, "Are you fine, son?"

Hiccup snorted.

"It's a bit too much to wrap my head around, just to be frank," he shrugged. "It's not every day that I find out that my father is some kind of monarch from some unknown archipelago and that my whole life had been a lie."

He tried to laugh it off but his chest felt hollow inside. It would have been better if the whole mess turned out to be a hoax but Hiccup acknowledged the truth more and more as he met his father's gaze. Their eyes had the same shade of green, the same shape. They even had the same nose, although his was a bit slimmer and less bulbous.

Looking into his father's face was like staring into a mirror image.

He knew right then and there that this man told him the truth.

"Where have you been all this time?" Hiccup asked. "Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

The pain of being abandoned influenced the anger that tinged his voice. For years, Hiccup had believed that his father never bothered to know about him. The stories his mother relayed left the impression that the man never cared a whit for his own child. Yet, Stoick suddenly appeared out of nowhere, too eager to acknowledge him as an heir. He found it hard to reconcile that he had a father who wanted to accept his existence.

"I am in a bit of a dilemma," Hiccup admitted. "I don't trust you. I don't even know who you are."

"No, you don't," Stoick agreed, "but that does not negate the fact that I do want to know you and that trust between us can be built and earned over time." He steepled his fingers and faced his son. "I cannot build a relationship with you, Hiccup, if you and your mother live a thousand miles away. I want you to live in Berk with me..."

"And the prince thing?"

"That has always been your birthright."

Hiccup inhaled a shaky breath, "You're asking too much from me. I cannot just leave everything behind. I can leave school but I won't abandon my dragon."

Stoick nodded his head. He knew that uprooting his son from his current home would not be an easy task. "I'm willing to negotiate for your dragon. If you live in Berk for a year then you are entitled to ask anything from me in return."

Hiccup blinked. "Anything?"

"Yes," his father affirmed. "Anything."

"What are the parameters?" Hiccup narrowed his eyes. "What?" He pouted at his father's dimpled grin, "I just want to know what exactly I'm signing up for."

Stoick chuckled as he saw a promising glimpse of his son's personality. Other brats might have jumped to the opportunity of asking exorbitant requests without considering the eventual consequences. Hiccup, on the other hand, wanted to discuss the fine print and the intricate details.

His son acted cautious. Good. That would be a useful trait that will serve him well in the future.

"You will live in Berk and I will provide everything that you would ever need. You will finish your education and at the same time I will teach you about the kingdom and your duties. I will give you six months to learn the responsibilities of a Crown Prince. If the allotted time ends and you decide not to become my heir, then you are free leave, never to return. In exchange, I will grant you anything that you covet with no questions asked."

"So, I learn Princely duties for a half a year then I'm free to go if I don't want it?"

"I'd rather that you finish your studies in Berk, son." Stoick said. "It would be inconvenient for you to switch schools twice in a single year."

Stoick knew he was gambling the future of his monarchy upon his chosen heir's decision. He had been tutored in the art of negotiation since he was a wee child and knew all too well how to get what he wanted. Everyone had a sweet spot, a weakness that can be exploited. He only needed to discover it and exploit his son's Achilles' heel.

Hiccup swore inwardly as he weighed his options. He found the proposal definitely tempting. Life would be infinitely easier for him if he decided to accept the deal. He could stay in Berk for a year then decline to accept the lofty position. He’s not forced to accept it anyway. Then he could ask for money for compensation, negating the need for him to garner a scholarship. He could enroll to the best university in the world and graduate with a degree in Dragon Biology.

Suddenly, his seemingly impossible dreams seemed more plausible and real. And for the first time in his life, Hiccup looked forward to future possibilities. He resolutely met his father's unwavering gaze and gave him his answer.

"I accept."

 

To be continued...

**Author's Note:**

> Since I'm just re-posting this story from my original account in ff.net, updates will be after every 3-4 days until I catch up to the latest chapter.


End file.
